


World Tour

by thechavanator



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Dragon Quest XI Act III Spoilers, Gen, Nonbinary Sylvia | Sylvando (Dragon Quest XI), gratuitous use of mardi garbs, hendrik also here he just doesn't speak, no beta we die like irwin i guess, working through your grief by performing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechavanator/pseuds/thechavanator
Summary: In the wake of Certain Events after the Luminary saves Erdrea once more, Sylv settles back down in Puerto Valor, throwing themself into practice with the Soldiers of Smile to distract themself from heartbreak. With Serena's arrival in the city, however, the Soldiers, and the new harpist in their ranks, set off on another world tour, of sorts, paying a few visits to some old friends where they can.(Spoilers through the beginning of the postgame, babey!)
Relationships: Sena | Serena & Sylvia | Sylvando, Sylvia | Sylvando & Emma | Gemma
Comments: 22
Kudos: 13
Collections: Valenslimes Day 2021





	World Tour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midnight_marimba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_marimba/gifts).



> Hi DQXI fandom, it's been a bit! I've been in a bit of a writing slump lately, plus OC/NPC Week (which...may be getting uploaded on here?) took up quite a bit of planning. But, hey, nothin like a good ol Valenslime to pull me outta my funk!
> 
> Speaking of Valenslime...hi Mar!!! I was really excited to nab you as my gift recipient!!! I was trying for some sweet Sylv/Serena but I was Strugglin, so instead they're just buds.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this!!! I'm a bit rusty on the dq writing, I think, but hey. (Personally, I think my favorite bits were just anytime Gemma gets all seamstress-y, hehe.) Also please enjoy my brief OC mention, brought on by a) working on his stuff for a week and b) your haHA in response to me telling you all to stop me.

Not for the first time—not even for the first time in the past year, honestly—Sylv wanders the world with a heavy heart. A strange concept, if they’re being honest, since the world is more vibrant and hopeful than it had been even before Mordegon’s reign, but it doesn’t quite matter in the end. Whether they know it or not, Erdrea has lost its light again, and this time the likelihood of it returning, at least in this form, isn’t looking so bright.

But, just as before, people are counting on them to make them smile. And it doesn’t hurt that this time Sylv knows they’re not alone out there, and that this time the world will only get brighter once this particular cloud of sorrow passes.

“Oi, Sylv, where’ve you been?” one of their darling Soldiers of Smile asks the moment they step into sight. The rest of the performers are crowded into some sort of huddle by the villa, likely preparing some sort of impromptu show for the people of Puerto Valor. (Sylv has taught them well, and their papi certainly hasn’t let them slack.)

Sylv pushes aside their grief for the moment, stepping into the role of fearless leader once more.

\---

Dave, Papi and the more knowledgeable of the Soldiers (in terms of knowing the struggles that Team Luminary had undergone, of course) claim that stifling their grief is only going to make Sylv ill, but it’s been three months now and Sylv still feels fine. Besides, performing has always been a handy distraction, first when they left home and then when they found themself (mostly) alone after Yggdrasil’s fall.

Which, they realize, in the few moments they spare towards being _honest_ about what they’ve gone through, means it’s only a matter of time before the weight of what they’ve been avoiding comes crashing down on their head. Truth be told, Sylv had expected a message from Heliodor, or word from some traveler who’d passed by the surely-rebuilt ruins of Dundrasil, to break them down.

The appearance of a certain Arborian healer, bag full of haphazardly-tossed belongings slung over her shoulder, on their doorstep was certainly _far_ from their mind. (Though, to their credit, they hold it together for long enough that poor Serena isn’t greeted by their blubbering.)

“To be perfectly honest,” she mumbles, as soon as the Soldiers stop fussing over her long enough for her to be heard, “I could hardly tolerate it there any longer. It was nice to be by Veronica, but…” She wipes a tear from her eye. “I’m sure you understand, of course.”

Sylv merely nods, not trusting their voice at the moment. All of them lost a lot, of course, but Serena lost the most by _far,_ and it would be _terrible_ etiquette to weigh the poor dear down with Sylv’s own sadness. (And Sylv will most certainly cry the instant they begin speaking. Nothing to be ashamed of, of course—Sylv discarded any shame over crying when they first left Puerto Valor—but unhelpful at the current moment.)

Serena continues. “Sometimes I wonder if they resent me. Or perhaps they merely don’t know how to act around me…” She shakes her head, smiling once more. “Oh, listen to me, going on about all that nonsense when I just got here. I’ve barely gotten to meet your wonderful little parade yet!” And off she goes, flitting around the plaza, greeting each of the soldiers and even each passing civilian. It’s a breath of fresh air, to be perfectly honest.

She finishes her hellos and ducks into the villa, Sylv following close behind, and they watch as her face grows more melancholy. “Now,” she murmurs, as Sylv all-too-suddenly remembers something Veronica had told them before, about Serena being able to sense (smell?) evil; does that apply to sadness, as well? “I’ve seen you at your most gleeful, Sylv, and I know this is certainly not it.” She fixes them with a stern look that seems more fit for Veronica. “Please, be honest with me. You’ve been feeling it too, haven’t you? The…” She trails off, seemingly unable to finish her sentence aloud. 

Sylv simply nods. “Ah, darling, truth be told…” It’s hard to muster the words, given their previously-stated desire to avoid the sadder parts of life, but they try their hardest anyway. “The world at large is happier, of course, and I wouldn’t trade anything for that joy! But I wish that _all_ of our friends were here to see it. Veronica and our darling hero, of course.”

Serena wraps an arm around their waist. “They’re still here with us, in their own way.” She releases them, gesturing to her heart. “Veronica’s soul rests with me, and I’m sure Yggdrasil wouldn’t let her favorite little leaf slip away entirely!” 

And in that instant, she’s back to her usual smiling self, and that brings some joy back to Sylv’s own heart in turn.

\---

They’d expected Serena to stay for a few days at most, but soon the spare bedroom in Papi’s villa is filled with romance novels and spellbooks, and she’s shown no signs of leaving. Which is _far_ from a problem in anyone’s eyes; the Soldiers adore her, and she’s taken to them alarmingly well, like a second (third, really) family, of sorts. The pain of losing Veronica and Eleven is still sharp, of course, but Sylv doesn’t have to deal with it alone, and that’s more than enough.

But, all the same...it feels as though something still isn’t quite right. There’s a sort of restless energy surrounding them, surrounding all the Soldiers, really....

It hits them suddenly, as they watch the Soldiers rehearse their routine, Serena strumming on her harp nearby. “Darlings,” they shout as the rehearsal grinds to a halt, “I think it’s time we hit the road once again!”

The Soldiers share an uneasy look. Perhaps they had gotten quite comfortable in Puerto Valor while Sylv was gallivanting around Erdrea, bringing joy via the sword rather than song and dance. But Serena lays her harp by her feet, clapping her hands gleefully. “Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea! I found so many dreary places on my travels here, and I’d bet they could use a bit of extra joy!”

The Soldiers chatter amongst themselves at Serena’s words; it seems they look up to her enough to change their tune entirely!

“Well, if none of you are opposed…” Sylv strikes a dramatic pose, the feathers on their costume ruffling in the wind. “Then we shall embark in two days! Let’s bring smiles back to the world, shall we?”

The preparations take little time at all; the Soldiers of Smile were always intended to travel, after all, with their time in Puerto Valor being solely to keep them safe while Sylv was gone. And as for Sylv...well, to be truthful, they had begun to miss traveling. There was still much of the world they hadn’t gotten to see, and even though Heliodor is still certainly rubble with how little time has passed, it would truly be nice to see Cobblestone as it should be, with people bustling around and some sense of normalcy having returned to the town.

So the Bastion—no, _Cobblestone_ is where they begin, watching the faces of the kids light up at the colorful performers as they march into the town-turned fortress. Sylv and Serena (decked out in her own handmade Mardi Garb, green and gold with a splash of red that Sylv will gladly pretend _hadn’t_ brought a tear to its owner’s eye) lead the way, leaving the rest of the Soldiers in the plaza as they wander towards the house their Luminary once called home.

The Soldiers came to perform, and Sylv and Serena are no exception, but they ought to make a few stops first.

Their traveling party, Hendrik aside, had met Amber and Gemma twice before; Eleven had insisted on stopping home before their fight with Mordegon. It had been far from a long visit, but in the short time they’d spent with Amber, Sylv had seen exactly where Eleven had gotten his heart from, and Gemma was just the _sweetest_ girl. (The second visit...had not been pleasant, since their little “adventure” had ended with the group one Luminary short.) It’s only fair to pay them both a visit while they’re in town.

Amber’s not alone in the house when the door swings open; Gemma’s seated at a desk placed where a bed once was, scribbling something on a sheet of parchment (clothing designs, perhaps? Eleven _had_ mentioned once that she’d intended on becoming a seamstress...) as Amber stirs what appears to be their dinner.

“Hello, darlings!” Sylv calls, pulling Gemma into a hug before she can get on her feet. She lets out a giggle, letting them lift her off the ground and spin her; Sylv was, honestly, worried that being here would give the two of them a bit of extra heartbreak, but she, at least, seems happy to see them.

“We were hoping to see you while we were here!” Serena tells them, curtsying to Amber (who _very_ fervently insists that she not treat her so formally). “It didn’t feel right to pass through without saying hello.”

Gemma grins as she examines Serena’s Mardi Garb. _“Very_ kind of you to do so! We’re always glad to see friends of Eleven’s stop by...well, Amber is, at any rate. I just use the house as an office space.” She frowns. “Your hem work is sloppy.”

“Ah, well,” Sylv begins, “I am purely a self-taught costumer, honey. So long as it holds up in a performance, or on the battlefield, the look doesn’t truly matter, does it?”

Gemma _gasps._ “Of _course_ it matters! If I were leadin’ a troupe of performers, I’d want their costumes to be as perfect as possible.” She pauses, lost in thought for a few moments. “Y’know,” she begins, “I’ve been thinkin’, if I _really_ want to be a world-renowned designer, I ought to learn about the clothes in other places, right?” She doesn’t wait for Sylv to respond, or even acknowledge her question, really. “So in that case, would it be alright if I joined you lot for a while? I can get all your costumes stitched up perfect, and I’m fine with performin’ if you need me to.”

“Oh, we’d be delighted to have you come along!” Serena beams, having decided that she is the authority in _this_ particular matter. (Not that Sylv minds by _any_ stretch of the imagination, of course.) She nearly drags Gemma out the door with a confidence Sylv wouldn’t have dreamed of seeing in her before Yggdrasil’s fall, leading her to the rest of the Soldiers. (It’s a shame to think of what she had lost to inspire such confidence in her, and it’s all they can do to hope that, wherever in time Eleven is, he’s found a way to break her out of her shell with far less tragedy.)

\---

With Cobblestone safe and most of the rebuilding efforts finished, Gemma had explained, Hendrik and the rest of the Heliodorian forces had returned to the fallen city to salvage what they could from the rubble. “Jade and Carnelian are there, too,” she tells them as she takes measurements for the most recent recruit, “surveyin’ how well things are goin’.” She pauses, hands on her hips as she eyes her current guinea pig. “Goswin, settle _down,_ love, I can’ measure you right if you keep squirmin’!”

They’ve been camped outside of the rubble once known as Heliodor for a day or so now, preparing as much as they can for a morale-boosting performance. (Gemma, of course, had sewn together her own Mardi Garb at the first possible opportunity, leaving Sylv stunned at just how fast she can work.) But the Soldiers are already getting restless, so the last batch of costumes will have to be hand-me-downs, for now.

Gemma safety-pins them at lightning speed, and without further ado, Sylv leads them into the heart of the rubble. The metaphorical curtain rises on a city that yearns to flourish again, and the spotlight centers on the king, the princess, the knight, and the colorful band of performers disturbing the solemnity of these ruins.

Jade, as ever, remains unphased, which Sylv will admit is _rather_ impressive considering she hadn’t seen the Soldiers in their prime. “It’s wonderful to see you two again,” she tells Sylv and Serena, bowing courteously to both of them. “And, as always, a pleasure to see you too, Gemma, dear.”

Sylv bows in return. “Jade, _darling!_ Have you grown tired of royal life yet?”

She shakes her head. “Well, to be truthful, I haven’t quite been living ‘the royal life’ much at all. I can’t truly be princess until I have a kingdom to rule, of course.” She gestures to the rubble around her. “There is still plenty of work to be done, and Cobblestone has generously offered their help, but their own rebuilding efforts take priority. So for now...well, I supervise.”

Hendrik finds his way to the group just as Sylv digs a few... _special_ costumes out of their bag, altered by Gemma as much as she could without their would-be wearers present. (Perhaps it was presumptuous of Sylv to craft parade costumes for all of their friends, way back then, but hey, they needed _something_ to ease their mind on that uncertain road after the Fall.) “I’m sure both of you are _far_ too busy to consider traveling with us,” they begin, “but would you indulge me for just one performance by our side?”

Serena and Gemma join them in giving their best pleading faces as Hendrik backs away, _clearly_ remembering the last time he had donned such a costume. “Oh, Sir Hendrik, _please?”_ the girls ask in unison.

Jade shrugs, a smile blossoming on her face as she catches a glimpse of Hendrik’s costume and realizes just what Sylv is planning. “Surely there’s no harm in one performance, Hendrik. I believe we’ve earned a break.” She sighs, grasping the Mardi Garb clearly intended for her. “I’m afraid it can only be one, however. I _do_ have a duty to my people, after all.”

Sylv’s been around her enough to translate; she _can,_ of course, but she would choose her people above all else. Jade has always been determined, and she intends on focusing that determination on Heliodor, now that she no longer needs to fight.

Her laughter upon donning her Mardi Garb (a lighter green than Serena’s, with purple accents to match both her dear little brother _and_ Henny-Wenny) to see Hendrik scowling in his new and improved clown regalia makes that one-night-only performance more than worth it.

\---

Sylv would say they’re surprised by how empty Octagonia seems, but they’d seen the casino and the havoc Booga had wreaked while he was in control. Really, the empty streets are perfectly understandable.

But then, night falls, the city doors slam open, and a gaggle of workers stream into the city, talking about the “rebuilding efforts,” and Sylv _thinks_ they might understand.

“Well, darlings, how do you feel about paying a visit to Dundrasil in the morning?” they ask, and twenty young souls cheer in response. (Bless those darlings, always ready to go wherever the wind (and Sylv themself) takes them.)

As they’d expected, Dundrasil is looking far livelier than they’d ever seen it, at least in recent years. It certainly pales in comparison to how the city was in its prime—a few months of restoration work cannot undo twenty years and one apocalypse’s worth of rubble, of course—but the bridge has been repaired and the barest hints of _houses_ have been built by the former plaza. 

And, of course, Rab doesn’t merely order the workers about; no, he’s right there with them, laying stones and casting healing magic on those who need an extra boost. Much like Jade, he’s lost what little taste he had for sitting back while others work. Even now, he doesn’t hesitate to greet his visitors, even as some of the more physically-gifted Soldiers wander off to help where they can.

“Aye, it’s good tae see ye lot again,” Rab tells them, wiping away a tear that Sylv pretends not to see. (It’s understandable that seeing his former companions would hurt, considering they serve as a reminder of the grandson he’d lost, found, and lost all over again.) “But ye should _really_ come by once auld Dundrasil is rebuilt. She’ll be a beaut, just like she was all those years ago…”

To Sylv’s surprise, Rab doesn’t need to be convinced to don his costume once more; actually, they don’t even need to _ask,_ since the moment Rab spots it, he laughs and takes it from Gemma’s hands. “The builders could use some cheer, and watching these auld bones try to dance ought tae bring them enough cheer for months.”

To his credit, Rab keeps up rather well. Though, Sylv supposes, twenty years on the road will do that to a man, no matter how old they are.

\---

They’ve collected more than a few tips and even more recruits on their reunion tour, it seems. Sylv hadn’t covered _every_ inch of Erdrea when the Soldiers of Smile first marched, and, to be perfectly honest, it’s no surprise that more young folks lost loved ones even after Sylv had aided them.

Such is life with the world withering around you.

The Soldiers have always welcomed new recruits with open arms, and these new Soldiers are no exception (though nowadays they’re greeted with a _very_ eager Gemma and her measuring tape). And it’s not as though Sylv can’t afford to bring them all along, or to feed and clothe them. But sometimes they wonder if all of them _ought_ to be performing. As the world continues on its path back to normalcy—or as close as it can get, nowadays—there’ll come a time where the Soldiers aren’t needed as much, and as much as Sylv would love to hold onto their dear little Soldiers forever, it’s only natural that some of them will want to return to normal life.

Perhaps the Academie is a stretch, given the Headmaster’s insistence that his school cater almost-exclusively to young women, but given the circumstances, and considering that one of his pupils _was_ (technically speaking) a former Soldier of Smile himself, Sylv bets the Headmaster could be swayed.

And so, the Soldiers find themselves outside the gates of L’Academie, preparing for a spontaneous performance as a pair of familiar voices, squabbling as always, make their way to Sylv’s ears.

“For the last time, Erik, I don’t _want_ to go to some stuffy boarding school.” Mia kicks at the dirt at her feet, undoubtedly scuffing her nice new shoes. “If you think education is so _important,_ you can enroll yourself.” 

Erik sighs. “Mia, we can’t keep traveling forever.” He pauses before summoning up enough strength to be vulnerable, in a way Sylv has rarely seen of him, and telling her, “Look, I just want you to have a better life than I did when I was your age.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re barely six years older than me now, asshole.”

Sylv has never been more thankful to have asked Gemma to prepare a spare, smaller Mardi Garb.

Serena breaks formation to ambush the two of them, pulling Erik into a too-tight hug and offering Mia a smile. The rest of the Soldiers aren’t too far behind, cooing over Mia while a few of them jealously eye her pile of school books. (Perhaps Sylv was onto something with the Academie after all!) Gemma, of course, eyes Mia’s hemline with increasing concern.

“Jeez, what’s with all the festivities?” Erik asks, eyeing the Soldiers warily. “You have a field trip going or something?”

Mia, flustered by all the attention but curious all the same, grins. “Oh, screw school, I want in on _this._ These guys seem like they know how to party.”

Far be it from Sylv to meddle in Erik’s affairs—okay, perhaps that is something of a lie—but her commentary plants an idea in their head. “Well, darling,” they begin, holding out the spare Mardi Garb, “why not spare some time for a performance with us? One last day of freedom before your school days begin?”

Mia snatches it from their hands. “Uh, hell yeah. I’ll do whatever if it keeps me out of _this_ thing for another day,” she tells them, free hand tugging at the skirt of her uniform, before bolting into the building to get changed.

Erik laughs. “Man, if I’d known you could get her into the school that easy, I’d have grabbed you _ages_ ago. She’s been fighting me on this for weeks!” He grins sheepishly, running a hand through his hair as he eyes Sylv’s bag. “Hey, uh, you got an extra one for me? To tell you the truth, I wanted to see what all this was about last time I was in the area.”

 _Last time_ was right before their trip to the Tower of Time. They both kindly avoid that topic; instead, Sylv hands him his own Mardi Garb, and he finds his way into the school just as Mia emerges, grinning as she rejoins the group. Gemma fastens a few pins where she can, doing the same for Erik’s own outfit when he finally finds his way back.

“Can’t exactly say I imagined myself wearing something like this,” Erik admits as Gemma steps away from her finished work, “but I’m sure as hell not complaining. I’d say I pull it off pretty well.”

“Wow, how humble of you.” Mia scoffs. “So, for this whole _performing_ business, do we need to do any tricks or shit like that? Can’t say I picked up anything like that on the road…”

Erik shrugs. “I can pick locks?”

Serena giggles as she tosses each of them a tambourine. “No need to worry, darlings!” she tells them. “You’ll be fine as long as you follow the beat.” She strums on her harp, leading the rest of the Soldiers into the school grounds proper (rather than awkwardly hovering by the gate, as they have been).

Their new squabbling Soldiers (even if only for the day) are quick learners, it seems; they keep pace with the rest with only a few stumbles, and they never miss a beat. Every time Sylv catches a glimpse of Mia’s face, she seems _delighted,_ and Erik, too, is certainly enjoying himself. It’s truly a shame this is a one-night-only event…

The performance crescendos into its inevitable finale, the students and faculty alike cheer, and Erik and Mia change out of their Mardi Garbs, clutching them for a moment as if they’d prefer not to let them go. Sylv’s eyes flicker from them, to the Soldiers gazing longingly at the classrooms, to the young women in school uniforms creeping ever closer to the instruments…

An idea comes to them, and Sylv marches directly into the headmaster’s office.

\---

For once, the Soldiers don’t quite have anywhere to go, so for now they’ve settled back down in Puerto Valor, rehearsing their routines to catch their new members up as Gemma stitches together some new costumes. Erik sits by the oldest members, watching Mia practice with the acrobats; she has quite the talent for it, and she’s taken to it like a fish to water.

(It’s been a bit of an adjustment, now that a number of Soldiers have hung up the parade costumes and donned Academie uniforms instead; with a bit of prompting, the Headmaster was quick to open his doors to _all_ of Erdrea’s youth, and a number of his existing students had opted to join the Soldiers in their stead. But by no means is it _unwelcome!)_

Serena plays a quiet little tune on her harp, surrounded by the children of Puerto Valor. Sylv joins them, sitting on the stone tiles of the plaza as her fingers pluck the strings. At last, her song finishes, and the children clap and cheer as she bows, flustered by the attention. (As strong and as confident as she has become, it seems she still hasn’t grown used to being the center of attention.)

Sylv sits down next to her as her audience disperses. She rests her harp on her other side, lost in thought for a moment. “When Veronica and I first left home,” she begins, “I had always imagined that I’d guide the Luminary to Yggdrasil, return to Arboria, and settle down to a normal life. I can’t say the thought of performing like this had ever crossed my mind.” She sighs. “Perhaps, wherever Eleven is, my other self is back home with Veronica, as we’d always planned. And perhaps she’s happier there, in that regard.”

Sylv nods. “I certainly can’t say this is the future I’d prefer…”

Serena smiles. “But it’s what we have, and I’m more than happy with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: thechavanator (main) / eleven-of-light (spoilers, largely inactive) / chellion-characters (OC stuff, largely inactive)  
> twitter: dqChellion  
> discord: Chel!#2061
> 
> I would have loved to have the whole party join the SoS, but it couldn't work out for a few of them for obvious reasons; Jade and Rab have their respective countries to rebuild/run, and Hendrik isn't ditching Heliodor again, haha.


End file.
